


Bad Blood

by shellface



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU?, Angst, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Magic, Murder Mystery, after CoHF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellface/pseuds/shellface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The price of immortality is too high, especially when it is paid unwillingly. But Magnus cannot let Alexander die, and as Alec struggles to deal with the price he has unwittingly paid, a child killer with demonic connections sweeps across the city. Magnus tries to hold them both together as they investigate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. these little things define us, forever

Magnus stands over the hump of newly-turned earth, his arms wrapped around him, fingers digging into the smooth velvet of his thin jacket. He swallows.

This isn't what he wanted to happen. This isn't _right_.

“How long now?” He asks, voice hoarse. The vampire next to him shrugs.

“Not long,” she says, peering at her fingernails. “He'll want out soon enough.” She flashes a darkly amused smile, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.

Magnus' shoulders sag. “You've got the blood?” He looks at her hands automatically, although he knows there's nothing there.

Lily rolls her eyes, and for a moment, she reminds him so much of Raphael, it's like a punch in the gut. “Of course.” She tugs a clear plastic packet from her back pocket. “You paid me enough for it.”

He nods, stomach sinking. He did pay her for this, but when she says it like that, it almost sounds like he  _asked_ her to turn Alec into a vampire.

He didn't. He never would. Had the thought occurred to him, once or twice? Yes – but in every single one of those scenarios, Alec had been  _willing_ to make this choice, willing to give up the light and the glory of being akin to an angel. It hadn't been like this. It hadn't been bloody, and painful, and dark and  _wrong_ .

“Do we know who did it?” He asks abruptly, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeves, as if the velvety surface will comfort him. It doesn't.

Lily shrugs again, the motion stylishly insouciant. “Nope.” She pops the 'p,' sounding supremely disinterested. That's vampires for you: only interested in number one.

His stomach twists. He won't be able to think like that any more, not if Alec is – he stops the thought. Alec will be Alec, whatever form his body takes. It's the reassurance he's been repeating to himself throughout this horrible night.

Lily eyes him curiously for a second. “Why are you so annoyed, warlock?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would have thought you'd have been jumping for joy,” she says, tone mocking. “Your little Shadowhunter, yours forever.”

He whirls on her, the air crackling with blue sparks. She just watches him calmly,  no trace of fear in her eyes. Raphael taught her well. “He would never have wanted this!” He snarls, the fear and the anger bursting to the surface. It's too much – he can't do this now, not when Alec lies deep under the surface, hunger for something inhuman burning in his gut. When Alec is becoming something that will disgust him, that will change him immeasurably and  _it's all Magnus's fault._

Lily regards him with something akin to disdain. “Do you think I asked for this life?” She asks scornfully, her arms folded tightly against her breasts. “Most of us don't,” she carries on ruthlessly, ignoring the look on his face. “But we deal. And we get over it.”

He shuts his mouth, and refrains from screaming at her that Alec will most likely never get over this. That being one of the undead will kill Alexander inside, slowly and insidiously, and that part of him knows he'll find him walking into the sun without a second thought.

He chokes back tears, and they stand in silence once more.

***

The ground begins to buckle underneath them, and even as he steadies himself, Magnus knows what's happening. A curious mixture of excitement and dread pools in his gut, and he finds he cannot move back.

Lily's hand clamps down on his wrist. “Back, warlock,” she murmurs, as she tugs him away from the earth. “You don't want to be too close.”

He wants to say he doesn't care. That he knows Alec inside out, and he will be right there when he needs him most, but he – unfortunately – knows she's right. The likelihood is that Alexander will not recognise him.

Newly-born fledglings have been known to kill even their own mothers.

They watch in strained silence as the earth becomes peppered with little molehills, and Magnus does not move a muscle – until, that is, Alec's fingers rise from the dirt.

He shoots forward, uncaring of his expensive jeans as he kneels in the muddy ground and stretches his own hand towards the man he loves more than anything else. “I'm here,” he murmurs, over and over, gripping the dirt-encrusted fingers with all the care in the world.

Lily wrenches him back, her vampiric strength too much to resist, even as he claws for release. “Let me _go,_ ” he growls, full ready to use some rather nasty magic to get his own way. “He needs my help, let me – ”

She snorts. “What he needs is blood,” she says bluntly, “and he will tear the world apart trying to get it. Even you,” her lip curls in a sneer, “his beloved.” She shakes her head, her grip around him tightening. “Let him do this himself.”

Even as she holds him back, a figure is bursting from the grave, geysers of dirt spurting upwards as Alec forces his way out of the ground. His eyes are blank, the familiar blue as sharp as ice as he focuses on his task.

Magnus goes limp in Lily's arms, and – with unusual kindness for a vampire – she does not comment. “You see?” She whispers, as Alec scrabbles out of the ground. When he stands upright, head bowed and hands clenched, she lets Magnus go. “Let me approach him,” she orders, eyes flashing.

He nods faintly, too lost to even come back with a suitable retort. It feels wrong, to let the handling of a situation go to somebody else, but he can do nothing else as he stares at Alec.

As soon as she nears him, he snaps to attention, lunging forward for her. He can probably smell the blood. He probably can't help himself.

It doesn't make it any better.

Lily – cool as ever – pushes him backwards into the dirt, standing over him menacingly. He can hear her talking, but doesn't try to make out any of the words, certain he doesn't want to hear what she's telling him. He's used to Alec being ready for anything – used to him rebounding with the agility Shadowhunters are famous for and fighting back.

But Alec is not a Shadowhunter anymore,

As soon as Lily dangles the package of blood in front of him, he snatches it with inhuman grace, and in one wild movement, tears into it with his teeth.

Alec, who blushes at any form of compliment, who jumps in front of others to save them and who shies away from PDA, tips the blood down his throat, not even caring when it trickles down the side of his mouth. His careful, polite Alec grabs each successive pouch without even a thank-you, and drains it with the expertise of an alcoholic.

He can feel his legs buckling underneath him, and it is only with faint surprise that he registers the feeling of dirt under his knees. _What have I done?_ , he thinks, mouth dry, _and how the hell am I going to fix this?_

***

It takes what feels like hours, but what is most probably minutes, for Alec to be satisfied, and then, the real pain begins.

He thought that watching Alec claw his way out of his own grave would be bad. He believed that watching him beg for blood would be the worst thing he could ever experience. He soon learns that he was unbelievably wrong.

“Alec?” He calls for him cautiously, shuffling towards him on shaky knees as the last pouch slips from his fingers and joins the rest of its companions on the floor. His eyes are no longer flat. He thinks to himself that things must be getting better. “Alec, I'm here.”

Infinitesimally slowly, Alec turns to face him. “You shouldn't be here.” His voice is unsteady, the words wavering. “You shouldn't have seen this.” His voice rises as the words become ever more frantic. “Magnus, please – ”

He tries to take his hand, but Alec snatches it away, a look of horror on his face as he stares down at himself. He looks like something from a war movie, but Magnus knows he doesn't see a victim here. “I wasn't going anywhere.” He forces his voice to remain as calm as he can make it, not ready to show Alec just how scared he was. “This – this doesn't change the way I feel about you.”

Lily stands in the background, watching their reunion impassively. He wishes he could tell her to disappear, but that would be terribly rude, considering what she's just done for them.

For one long moment, Alec refuses to say anything, staring down at his bloody hands. “Go away, Magnus,” he says finally, voice firm but quiet. “You shouldn't be here,” he repeats.

“I shouldn't be here?” Magnus snorts incredulously to cover how much the words hurt. He is forced to remember telling Alec something very similar, all those years ago, when he dabbled with taking his immortality away. He almost wishes Alec had managed it. It would be less heartbreaking than this. “I have a _right_ to be here, Alexander Lightwood,” he hisses, his eyes sparking with fury and pain, “I would be nowhere else, and don't try to tell me – ”

“I don't want you here!” Alec yells, and Magnus is so shocked that he falls silent. He so rarely hears Alec raise his voice, that it is more of a shock to his system than watching him become a vampire. “Magnus, don't you understand?” He trembles, his fingernails digging into the pale flesh of his palms. “I. Don't. Want. You. To. See. This,” he enunciates each word carefully, and each one feels like a bullet.

But Magnus has been shot before, and it never stopped him. He shrugs, deliberately casual. “I. Don't. Care.” He imitates Alec's careful speech, and even as the other man pulls away from him, he reaches closer. “I love you,” he says softly, the words almost a plea. He can see the anguish in Alec's face as he turns away. “I need to be there for you.”

“Maybe I don't need you for this,” he responds stubbornly, but his voice cracks and Magnus knows it is a lie. “Maybe I need to be alone.”

Magnus' stomach turns over at the idea. He is very sure that if he leaves Alec alone, he will never see him again, save for a pile of ash, and he cannot let that happen. Perhaps it is selfish; maybe it is cruel, but part of him knows he can help Alec learn to live as a Downworlder. He knows that he can teach him to live with the horror of his new self – that he can convince him to push past the self-hatred, as he taught him that he was well worthy of being noticed above anyone else in the room.

“Well,” he starts determinedly, “that's just not going to happen.” He cups the side of Alec's face with one hand. Alec relaxes into the touch for just a moment, before pushing his hand away hastily. “You promised me you'd give me however long you have on this Earth, Alexander,” he tells him, “and I fully intend to make sure that happens.”

“That was before I died!” Alec snaps angrily, spreading his hands helplessly. “I am _dead_ , Magnus. I'm – I'm damned,” he says, voice hitching. “I shouldn't be here!”

All he can do is watch, heart breaking, as Alec's chest hitches with breathless sobs, until he can't take it any more, and pulls him into his arms. Alec fights him, hard, but he hangs on until Alec's face is tucked against the nook between his neck and shoulder. He strokes his hair, and whispers the nonsensical things people say to calm others down.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, his cheek against Alec's hair as he cries into his shoulder, “but I couldn't leave you to die.”

 


	2. you said you always had my back

Alec does not say anything for two days, curling in on himself like a child and clutching his knees to his chest. At night, he cries so hard that he shakes, and every time Magnus wakes up to comfort him, he tells him to go back to sleep.

Magnus ignores him, of course. He remembers his own pain; he remembers his stepfather's conviction that he was a damned soul, his mother's swinging body. He remembers the pain of realising he was not entirely human and that he was alone – so very alone – and would be forever.

But Alec is not alone, and he refuses to let him isolate himself.

His family are away in Idris, and he knows that – at some point – they will need to be told. He sends them a message saying that Alec is wounded, and will not be at the Institute for a while; they accept this with the typical stolidity of Shadowhunters.

Alec remains curled up on the settee when he broaches the subject on the third day, Chairman Meow – who seems completely unaffected by the fact that Alec is now a vampire – turning in circles on his lap. “I don't want to see them.”

Magnus sighs. “You're going to have to see them at some point,” he says reasonably, “you know that.”

Alec looks up at him, his expression so sad, it hits him like a physical pain. “What, and have my family look at me in disgust?” He turns away, gently folding one of the Chairman's velvety ears between his fingers. The Chairman purrs happily in response. “I'm a Downworlder now,” he injects the word _Downworlder_ with so much scorn that Magnus is mildly offended.

He sits down next to Alec on the sofa, pulling his hand into his lap. Alec just stares down at the cat in his lap. “Look, we both know that the Clave is bigoted and up themselves, but this is your _family_ , Alec. They love you.” _Mine didn't_ , he adds silently.

“They won't after this,” Alec says, voice hitching. It sounds odd without his normal breathing pattern. “They won't know what to do with me. It'll be like when I came out, but a thousand times worse.” He angrily brushes a bloody tear away, tired of crying. “Izzy and Jace will try to understand, but you saw what they were like with Simon at the beginning. What _I_ was like.”

Magnus refrains from mentioning that Isabelle seemed to get over it pretty quickly, as she started dating Simon soon after, because he's fairly sure Alec doesn't want to think about that. “They'll get over it. They love you. They'd do _anything_ for you.” He coughs. “And I wasn't going to mention this, but I had to come up with a particularly spectacular lie to stop Jace from rushing over here. He felt something through the _parabatai_ rune, and well...he was worried.”

Alec flinches. “He felt me die,” he says dully, fingers clenching in the cat's fur. “Like I did, before the Angel brought him back.”

“Don't you think he'd far rather have you here, as a vampire, than not at all?” Magnus asks softly.

Alec remains silent. He sighs again. “Have it your way, Alexander,” he tells him, “I won't say anything until you're ready. But I can't stop them from coming over, or finding out by themselves.”

Alec nods. “Thank you,” he says stiffly, and Magnus wishes that he could somehow stop him retreating into himself, as he did all those years ago.

“I'm here,” he squeezes Alec's hand, their fingers intertwining, “just – please don't shut me out.” The words come out in a rush, because he's scared and he can't pretend to have all the answers any more. “I love you and I just want to help.”

The silence is heavy with the unspoken words. _Then you shouldn't have let me become a vampire._ He can feel tears prickling the backs of his eyes, but he ignores them. Alec doesn't blame him, not completely, but he can feel the weight of his decision upon him, and he has no idea how to move past it.

Alec shifts a little, and the Chairman mews his discomfort. “I'm not trying to shut you out,” he says helplessly. “I just – I have no idea what to think, or – or do, and I,” he falls silent, looking back down at his lap. “My whole world has changed,” he whispers.

Magnus supposes that this is true. No longer will Alec be able to walk the rooms of his childhood home; he will never truly be a Shadowhunter again, and his family – the family he loves and protects so fiercely – will slowly, but perceptively, become apart from him. He'll have to watch them grow old and die, as he remains unchanging. He'll have to come to terms with his new immortality, as he realises that everyone else around him will disappear into nothingness, like so much dust.

It's a horrible realisation. Magnus still finds it hard to deal with, some days. His immortality has cost him countless relationships – countless lives and loves he could have had, if only he didn't outlive everybody else.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to _do_.” It comes out in a small voice, muffled by the fact that he has picked up the cat and is mumbling the words into his fur.

“You live,” Magnus says simply, “and you enjoy what you still have. That's what you do.” He looks at the beloved, still familiar face. “You're not damned, Alexander,” he tells him, “you're just different. And there's nothing wrong with that.”

The droll look Alec gives him over the cat speaks volumes about what he thinks about that little speech. “Tell that to the rest of the world,” he says bitterly.

“I don't have to,” Magnus tells him, a little sharp. “What matters is what _you_ think.” He pokes a glittery fingernail into Alec's chest; it feels strange not to feel the thumping of his heartbeat. “And if you just mope around all day, like a vampire in a teen romance novel, then yes, you will start to feel like crap.” He rolls his eyes.

The corners of Alec's mouth twitch, and Magnus feels ridiculously happy about having gotten somewhere.

“I'm not moping around all day,” he protests, but only mildly. He knows that's _exactly_ what he's been doing, but then he is entitled to a few days moping.

Magnus gusts another huge sigh. “You are impossible, Alexander Lightwood,” he says, not without affection.

Alec shrugs, an uneven smile on his face. “I'm a vampire now,” he snorts, “I'm supposed to be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Yeah. It's a chaptered fic now. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Chapter titles are Bad Blood lyrics.

**Author's Note:**

> Title stolen from the Bastille song, which I've had stuck in my head all day. I threatened to write this to my friend, and then I actually did. Whoops.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
